


September 1

by SpartanGuard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, F/M, Hogwarts Express
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4719155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpartanGuard/pseuds/SpartanGuard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or: Seven times Killian Jones got on the Hogwarts Express and one time he didn't</p>
            </blockquote>





	September 1

Killian Jones swallowed his nerves. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d run headlong at the wall, but it was the first time he would be boarding the train on the other side. He was finally, finally joining his big brother Liam at Hogwarts, and excited as he was, it was still a little daunting.

“Come on, little brother, or it might leave without you!” Liam shouted as he disappeared through the magical barrier.

Killian squared his jaw, furrowed his brow in concentration, and took off at a dash, pushing his trunk and cart ahead as he too passed through the brick wall.

“Younger brother,” he grumpily replied to Liam, who was grinning down at him. The shiny Prefect badge on his blue-and-bronze-trimmed robes just added to the cocky air surrounding the seventh-year student as he chuckled and ruffled Killian’s already-mussed dark hair.

“Come on; let’s get you settled on the train.”

They’d barely taken a step before Killian was unceremoniously knocked down and his trunk thrown haphazardly off its trolley by another student’s belongings.

“Oy, watch it!” he shouted back at the boy, who was struggling to get his own belongings righted.

“Killian, bad form,” Liam muttered, but he barely heard it over the other boy’s shouted apology. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

A quick glance at the boy’s unmarked robes suggested he too was a first-year. Liam helped get the other boy’s trunk back in place while Killian fixed his (groaning over the new dent in the side), and then asked, “You alright, lad?”

“Yeah, I am; sorry again,” the sandy-haired boy replied.

“I’m Liam Jones, and this is my brother Killian.” He offered the boy his hand.

“David, David Nolan,” he said quietly, eyes cast down as he gingerly shook hands back.

“First year?”

“That obvious?” The boy cringed a bit, and Liam gently laughed.

“Afraid so. But Killian here is, too.” Liam roughly nudged him in the ribs, forcing him to finally look up from the stone on the ground he’d been stubbornly studying. They exchanged a nod and a nervous glance.

Liam’s gaze drifted between the boys, until he finally just sighed. “Alright, let’s find you a spot.”

They wrestled their trunks and bags onto the gleaming red train, roughly shoving them into the overhead spots in an empty cabin. Killian turned to search for Liam before sitting down, but the elder boy had already disappeared farther down, joining some of his Ravenclaw friends. He looked back over at David, who had settled down on one bench and was twiddling his thumbs. Killian sighed, the same way his brother did, and took the seat opposite him. Neither did more than nervously glance around until the train finally started to lurch from the station.

There were shouts of goodbye from the other rooms on the Express and all manner of parents and relatives waving from the platform as the engine pulled out of Kings’ Cross, but neither boy made a move.

“Ar…aren’t you going to wave goodbye to your parents?” Killian asked, timidly.

“My mum’s a Muggle,” David said quietly. “What about you?”

“It’s just me ‘n Liam.”

An awkward silence settled on the two again, until David broke it.

“So, where are you from?”

“Near Dublin. You?”

“A little farming village in England. My mum’s a shepherd, and my brother and I help her.”

“Is your brother a wizard?”

“No. And we’re twins, which is weird.”

“Yeah, it is.”

They fell into conversation quickly at that, talking about their brothers and what they expected for the year and Hogwarts. David still didn’t know a lot about the wizarding world, so Killian filled him in, even though there was still a lot he didn’t know. They discussed which houses they wanted to be in; both decided Gryffindor would be ideal, but Killian would be more than happy to end up in Ravenclaw with Liam, as well.

The light waned as the countryside flew by, and before they knew it, the train was slowing as it entered the village of Hogsmeade. Killian exchanged a grin with his new friend as they got off and followed the stream of first-years to the enchanted boats that would take them across the lake.

David kept staring at the dark waters as the little boat cut across the surface. “Haven’t you been on a boat before?” Killian asked.

“Not like this.” The fear in David’s voice was obvious.

“Don’t worry, mate; this is nothing. I’ve survived storms in less sea-worthy vessels.”

“Really?”

“Aye; we’re fine.” These waters were actually far more interesting than the seas he was used to at home; he spent the rest of the short trip looking for mermaids and the giant squid Liam had told him about.

A nervous energy filled the entry hall as the first years buzzed about house selection. David remained at Killian’s side until his name was called.   
“Gryffindor!” the Hat proclaimed with little deliberation; David glanced back at Killian with a grin.

Killian was called a few names later. The Hat sat on his head for a few moments, causing Killian to worry, but his eyes found Liam at the Ravenclaw table and he was reassured.

Finally, it reached its decision. “Hufflepuff!”

A cheer came from the yellow-clad table, though Killian was somewhat shocked. But he made his way over, receiving claps on the shoulder from his new housemates as he went. He took a seat next to a first-year girl with short dark hair and bright green eyes.

A chorus of “welcomes” greeted him as he sat down, and the girl introduced herself as Mary Margaret. Any disappointment went away quickly as he saw home written on the friendly faces around him.

* * *

“Bye, Liam! I’ll see you at Christmas!”

“Take care, little brother.”

“Younger!”

Liam released his brother from his embrace and fixed the younger Jones’ collar, which had gone askew. Killian rolled his eyes and huffed, but he knew he’d miss this—he was off to his second year at Hogwarts while Liam, who had graduated in the spring with top honors, was on his way to become an Auror.

“Make sure to send me owls, Killian.”

“I will. You too, brother.”

Liam clapped his brother’s shoulder, smiled, and wandered back through the brick wall. Killian watched as he walked away, but was shortly thrown off balance by an unforeseen tackle.

“Oy, watch it!” he shouted at the offender.

A familiar laugh reached his ears. “Calm down; just thought I’d continue with tradition.” David offered his hand to help Killian back to his feet; they’d exchanged owls over the summer but hadn’t seen each other since the end of the term. He properly greeted his friend with a punch in the shoulder, then grabbed Mary Margaret, who was standing behind David, in a big hug. The three had become almost inseparable in the last school year, even with David being in a different house.

Now, as second-years, they were a little taller, a little older, and ready to take on the next year. They chuckled to themselves as they watched the nervous first-years on the platform, but remembered being in their shoes a year ago (even though it felt like a lifetime).

They were about to load their trunks into a compartment when a new student caught Mary Margaret’s eye. “Guys, look,” she said as she pointed the girl out.

Curly blonde hair fell down her back, similar in color to that of the woman she stood next to. Despite having an adult presence, the girl still seemed lonely and lost. Before the boys could say anything, Mary Margaret had hopped off the train and ran in the girl’s direction. David and Killian watched and settled their trunks overhead while Mary Margaret talked to the girl and invited her to join them; Killian recognized the girl’s shy smile when she accepted as one he’d given many times, when he was afraid what was being offered was too good to be true.

“David, Killian—this is Emma.” Mary Margaret introduced the girl when she got back to their door.

“Hi!” “Hey there!” they greeted as they stowed away the girl’s trunk and settled in for the train ride. Mary Margaret and David took one bench, while Killian sprawled in the corner of the other; Emma hesitantly sat down next to him.

“Don’t worry; I don’t bite, love. Unless you want me to.”

“Aren’t you twelve?” She gave him a sideways glance and half a smirk, but he noticed a wariness in her green eyes that was all-too familiar: the look of someone who’s been abandoned (a look he knew existed in his own blue ones, if someone was able to catch it).

Mary Margaret began to ask Emma questions and they fell into easy conversation; Emma seemed to fit right in with their little group. There was finally a match for Killian in the sass department, but the similarities between the two didn’t stop there: she admitted she’d been found abandoned as an infant and bounced around a bit before ending up with Ingrid, her foster mother. David glanced over at Killian more than once during Emma’s tale, knowing that Killian, too, had been orphaned and abandoned; it was only thanks to Liam that they’d been able to survive.

Despite her emotional wounds, Emma still seemed optimistic and there was an unmistakable fire in her that he admired.

Killian smiled that night in the Great Hall when the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor.

* * *

“Ugh, you’re so full of it!”

“Of what? Charm, intelligence, dashing good looks?”

“You’re an arse, Killian Jones.”

“Takes one to know one, Swan.”

“Would you two knock it off for one minute?” Mary Margaret was completely exasperated with Emma and Killian’s constant bickering and teasing. It had been nearly ceaseless for the last year, despite the fact that Emma was a year behind them AND in a different house. But they still found time to get on each other’s nerves: passing in the hallways, during study hours, in the middle of a quidditch match (that had been entertaining to say the least, especially when Gryffindor won).

But there was a deep friendship at the center of it, and this was just how they showed they cared. Killian would truly do anything for Emma, same as he would for David or Mary Margaret. He had Liam, of course, but these three had become his second family, sharing late nights together, dealing with the same problems in charms class, and banding together when the people who truly irritated them started causing trouble. (It was certainly a good thing that Hufflepuff and Slytherin had potions together—if Killian wasn’t there, he hated to think what might happen with deepening feud between Mary Margaret and Regina Mills.)

As they settled into their now-usual cabin for their third (well, Emma’s second) trip to Hogwarts, Killian was eager to embark on the adventure of a new year, and incredibly thankful to have these three at his side.

* * *

The sight of the Hogwarts Express had never been more welcome than it was when Killian ran through the barrier to head off for his fourth year. That summer had been hell, pure hell, and he needed to get back to somewhere not completely haunted with the demons that had tailed him the last few months.

He hadn’t been home three weeks before the world fell apart under him: while out on what was thought to be a run-of-the-mill Auror mission, Liam was killed by a supporter of the Dark One. It had been years since anyone had heard mention of the evil sorcerer—he mysteriously vanished one night, and it had been long enough that everyone assumed he’d died and his reign of terror had ceased, his supporters long disbanded.

But something terrible was afoot that night, and Liam was caught in the crosshairs. In an instant, in one awful curse, Killian’s brother and only remaining family was gone.

David and his mother had been more than kind and taken him in while he reeled from the loss, and it had only been in the last couple weeks that he’d broken out of his self-imposed shell. It was a visit from Emma and Mary Margaret that finally pulled him out of the guilt and grief, and he was never more thankful for his friends.

There were murmurs through Diagon Alley and on the platform that day of what had happened that summer—Liam, sadly, wasn’t the only one killed by someone associated with the Dark One. But there were still doubters. Even Mary Margaret wasn’t sure.

But David supported him, and Emma did, too. Emma had long suspected that her abandonment had something to do with the dark wizard—the timing was far too close—and stood by Killian’s side in his firm belief that the Dark One might be trying to come back.

At the same time, he felt useless—he was 14 years old; what could he do? As if he needed any more proof of that, he found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off seventh-year Ravenclaw Milah Gold, who seemed equally smitten from where she stood farther down the platform. David broke him from his reverie with a nudge to the ribs and a serious smirk; Killian would have loved to wipe it off his face but he really couldn’t say much when David had finally asked Mary Margaret out last week (they’d been dancing around it for months).

They both stopped smiling when they saw Emma holding hands with Neal Cassidy. He was a fifth-year in Slytherin and just gave them both the wrong vibe, but Emma liked him so they’d made an agreement to back off (plus, as the best Beater in the school, they knew Emma could protect herself).

The train gave a warning whistle as they all took their seats. Mary Margaret cuddled into David’s side while Emma promptly began poking and teasing Killian. It was so nice to have some normalcy.

* * *

He didn’t want to be here. He truly didn’t. Not when he saw her face at every turn; not when her eyes still haunted his visions; not when her screams echoed in the clatter all around him.

The bloody Dark One had killed Milah, and Killian hadn’t been able to stop it. Her family, who had once supported the Dark One, refused to go back to their old ways and return to his aid, and that evil man had taken his revenge while she was out for what should have been a quiet evening with Killian. One second she was there, and the next, Killian held her lifeless body in his arms, pale eyes staring back at him unseeing.

The scene constantly replayed in his head: how he halfheartedly attempted to fire a killing curse back, but he was too overcome with grief to do so.

“Killing me’s going to take a lot more than that, dearie.”

“Even demons can be killed. I will find a way!”

“Killian?” Mary Margaret’s voice pulled him from thoughts. He looked across the compartment and saw concern in her eyes; David and Emma had the same looks on their faces. They’d all been worried about him since it happened and more than once had tried to talk him out of the vowed vengeance he swore upon Milah’s death. He hated to admit it, but he saw fear in their eyes as much as care, and that frightened him in turn.

“Killian, it will be alright,” Emma’s soft voice told him. He felt something warm on his hand; he looked down to see she had covered his large and rough one with her small one. There was pain reflected in her eyes, too—it turned out Neal was a supporter of the dark wizard, and when she wouldn’t join him, they’d had a falling out of epic proportions.

She squeezed his hand in understanding. They were both broken and both had lost much at the hand of the Dark One. He had a feeling that if he had any chance to defeat him, it would have to be with her.

* * *

Everything was different now. The very air had changed, casting a dark, tense pall on what was usually one of the happiest days of the year, even in the midst of the of the pain that had been Killian’s constant companion for too long now.

Now, the Dark One had returned. There was no question about it and a sense of panic and fear was ever-present. His reign of terror all those years ago wasn’t far from memory, but there was a tiny glimmer of hope this time.

There was a prophecy, which the Dark One had discovered and made known.

_The Savior who will vanquish the Dark One has arrived_  
Born of true love gone too soon  
Left behind and found again when eleven years hath passed  
The rara avis filled with light  
The Savior has arrived…

Speculation was rampant; from the quiet corner they’d found on the King’s Cross platform, they could hear their classmates discussing theories. But only they had a solid idea: Emma.

Emma had blood magic protecting her—love. They’d discovered it during a too-close encounter with one of the Dark One’s minions who tried to take her heart, quite literally, and failed, causing the attacking witch’s demise. Something like that could only result from true love, and rara avis? That usually meant a swan.

“But Emma, you can’t do this alone!” Mary Margaret was insisting.

“I can’t bring you guys into this.” She was stubbornly refusing their help, staunch in her belief that she and only she could take down the Dark One.

“Emma, we just want to help,” David plead.

“No. It’s too risky. I just…can’t.” And then she ran.

David squeezed Mary Margaret closer to his side with the arm that was almost constantly wrapped around her, whispering words of comfort as she tried to hold back tears. It hurt Killian to see his friends so distraught, but hurt him more to see Emma pushing them away. So he ran after her.

He found her, alone, curled up in a compartment on the train. He understood her frustration and desire to keep people at arm’s length to prevent getting hurt. But this was too big.

“I know you feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, but at some point, you have to trust us, Swan,” he lectured as he sat down next to her.

“You think I don’t trust you?”

“Is that not what this is about?”

“Of course I trust you guys. But I can’t lose you.”

He was a bit taken aback at her honesty. They’d grown even closer in the past year, but they both still had walls up, had things they would never truly share with anyone.

“I can’t lose you, Killian.” Her voice was almost a whisper; a tear trailed down her cheek.

His heart clenched at her words. He was beginning to feel something…more between them—he had ever since last year’s Yule Ball, when she was a vision in red—but…this was new.

It wasn’t unwelcome, though. He moved closer to her and brought her into his embrace.

“Love, you don’t have to worry about me. None of us, least of all me, are going anywhere, Emma.”

She leaned into his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist; he decided he’d be more than content to remain next to her like so for a very, very long time.

* * *

He was running—running behind and running to catch the train. He had finally decided that he’d return to Hogwarts at the very last hour possible, deciding against going off in search of the key to the Dark One’s destruction in lieu of his final year at Hogwarts. He’d be doing it alone if he went off, and he knew he’d fail if that was the case. He and Emma had debated it all summer, but she inevitably decided that it would be best to continue on at the school. The Dark One was still ignorant of her being the Savior, or that anyone knew about his dagger, which was both the source of his power and the instrument capable of bringing his demise.

And, truthfully, Killian had nothing if he didn’t have Emma—the past year had shown him that.

He made a mad dash through the brick barrier and hopped on the train just as the last warning whistle sounded. His friends were just about to close the door to their compartment when he reached it, out of breath.

“Killian Jones! What did you think you were doing?” Emma scolded him loudly and physically, with a smack upside the head, but he just grinned back at her and watched as her anger melted to relief.

“You’re not rid of me that easy,” he cheekily replied.

“Damn, I hoped we were,” David interjected with laughter in his eyes.

“Don’t scare us like that again, Killian,” Mary Margaret warned. She might seem demure, but he’d seen her angry more than once in the past six years and her message sobered him quickly.

“If there’s one thing I’m sure of, mates, it’s that we have to do this together,” he said, sitting down next to Emma. She instinctively nestled into his side and he smiled. “We do make quite the team.”

She just smirked back at him. “Button your damned shirt.”

* * *

It felt a bit odd to be on the platform but not boarding the train, but it was with good reason. Killian was seeing Emma off to her final year at Hogwarts, having graduated the previous May. There was a bit of deja vu as he was headed off to Auror training, much like Liam was a few years prior. But this time, there was nothing hanging over their heads, no threats of dark wizards who could take everything from them.

Emma had defeated the Dark One. He’d stupidly arrived at the castle in the spring, brandishing his dagger and with an army in tow, demanding that the Savior come forward. Bravely—so bravely, but it took Killian’s entire being to not rush in and take her place—Emma stepped to the front to take on the man.

In the ensuing chaos, David and Killian had somehow managed to wrest the dagger from the Dark One and, with the help of Regina of all people, destroyed the horcrux (because that’s what it was, they discovered) with some expertly conjured fiendfyre. After that, it was just a matter of Emma drawing on her blood magic, and her faith in the love of her friends, to destroy the man with a powerful blast of the killing curse.

After he fell, his followers attempted to continue their fight, their dreams of a world of blood purity still deeply entrenched, but with no one to unify them, they quickly collapsed.

The wizarding world had spent the summer healing and starting to rebuild and now, with the start of September and the new school year, the fall was bringing a fresh start for everyone.

David and Mary Margaret were saying their goodbyes to Emma as Killian watched on, telling her to write often and be careful. They both gave her one long embrace, and then, finally, it was Killian’s turn.

No words needed to be exchanged. He simply wrapped her in his arms and reveled in the way she rested her head on his chest. After a moment, he nudged her chin up with his remaining hand (the other fell victim to a sectumsempra curse in the battle) and gazed into her eyes, memorizing the love that was now a permanent part of them. He found her lips with his, and kissed her long and hard, knowing it would have to last for a while.

“Be careful, Swan,” he told her.

“You, too.”

Neither had admitted love yet, but it was there. And he wasn’t worried about it—for the first time in a long while, he knew there was a future to look forward to, and he knew Emma was in his.

All was well.


End file.
